


The Judge

by supernaturallylost



Series: Rehabilitation [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Heartbreak, Heartbroken Dean, Heavy Angst, Homelessness, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Please Don't Hate Me, References to Drugs, Suicide mentions, What Have I Done, nope - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas makes the most difficult decision he's ever been faced with, leaving both Sam and Dean in a state of shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Judge

Castiel woke up with Dean’s breath tickling his neck. He was facing the door, as he usually did, and Dean was surrounding him like a human shield under the blankets. Dean hugged Cas closer in his sleep, and Cas let himself smile for a moment. Then, he slowly moved Dean’s arm off of his side, and he stood.

Yesterday, he’d been terrified. He’d been attacked, yes, but he wasn’t scared for himself as much as he was scared for Dean. He’d threatened the safety of the family who took him in. Castiel could never forgive himself for that.

He went to the dresser and found the oldest and most worn clothes he could find. He wouldn’t take anything else with him. He had arrived in the beginning with the clothes on his back, and that is how he would leave. There was only one thing left to do, he thought to himself as he changed into the old clothing.

Slowly, Cas opened the door to the hallway and crept out. He closed the door behind him, pressed his forehead against the wood, and took a deep breath. With a vague smile, he stroked the walls and walked to the front door.

 

Dean was in a bad way. He woke up cold, shivers running down his spine. Throughout the apartment was a thud of gigantic feet pacing, a swish of opening and closing doors, and a hiss of muttered curses. Dean breathed deeply, reaching out for Cas’s hand under the blankets.

“Cas, what’s wrong with Sam?”

Dean’s eyes remained closed and he shivered again, grasping under the blankets trying to find Cas.

“Cas?”

Dean opened one squinted eye and smiled.

“Cas, where are you?”

The light from the window was blinding. They must have fallen asleep before Dean could close the curtains like he usually did. Dean yawned and blinked away the tears caused by the light. He waited for his eyes to adjust, and soon he saw the mural Cas had painted on their bedroom wall. He’d added details to it recently, and the couple who were snoozing on the train in the picture looked more like Cas and Dean than before. Dean smiled unevenly and looked around the room for the artist.

“Cas?”

The sounds from outside of his room stopped and there was a knock on his door. Dean cleared his throat and sat up when Sam walked inside.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean laughed uneasily. “Where’d Cas go to?”

Sam just looked at Dean, opening and closing his mouth like he didn’t know what to say. That’s when Dean knew. He knew why he was so cold, why he was shivering, why he could look for Cas in the apartment for hours and he wouldn’t find him… Cas was gone.

Dean pushed away his blankets and rushed to the dresser. Sam reached out as if to stop him, but then he just leaned back against the doorframe. His eyes were tired, like he’d been up for hours trying to think of where Cas could have gone. He watched Dean open the drawers and slam them shut with the furious guilt that was knowing that Cas left it all behind. Dean seemed to have forgotten everything else in his rush, and he moved from place to place to see if Cas took anything with him. In the kitchen, Cas’s cashed paycheck was sitting on the counter, along with the extra key to the apartment they’d given him. Dean slammed the keys to the ground and grunted.

“Cas!” he shouted.

He rushed around the kitchen tables and stubbed his toe on a chair. Sam reached out to help, but Dean had already grabbed the wooden chair and slammed it, too, on the floor, breaking off one of the legs.

“Dean,” Sam finally said. His brother continued to slam the chair against the ground until all four chair legs were separate from the seat, and then he threw the seat against the wall. “Dean, please.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, tears in his eyes. He backed against the wall with panic in his eyes. Then, he remembered something. He shoved by his brother and back into his bedroom. There, on the bedside table, was the framed rose Dean had given Cas on the day they met.

_“Dean, I’m not worth it.”_

_“Look at the picture, Cas.”_

_“The rose… You saved it.”_

Dean picked up the picture, a tear splashing against the glass frame.

From the hallway, Sam could see into Dean’s room. He knew there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do. He leaned against the wall in the hallway and tilted his head up to the ceiling.

‘Cas,’ he thought, ‘please be okay…’

 

The first letter arrived one week later. Sam was the one who picked it up and held it in his hands first. He didn’t recognize the writing, and there was no return address, but he knew who had sent it. It was addressed to Dean. Not Mr. Winchester, not Dean Winchester. Just Dean. Sam swallowed hard and brought the letter into the kitchen, setting it on top of one of the few areas of the table that wasn’t covered by beer bottles or cups of old whiskey.

“Dean,” he whispered. Dean slept at the table now, unable and afraid to go back to his own bed. “Dean, wake up.”

Red eyes blinked away their stupor and slowly, Dean’s consciousness returned. Before anything else, he reached out for the nearest beer bottle. When it was empty, his jaw clenched.

“Dean, this is for you,” Sam said weakly.

He hadn’t gone to work all week either, instead staying with Dean to make sure he didn’t get alcohol poisoning. The years of being a health instructor, however, had not taught him how to deal with the stubbornness of his own family. At least if Dean was going to drink, Sam could be there to water down his booze gradually.

“Dean, it’s a letter for you,” Sam repeated quietly.

Dean blinked, picked up the envelope and froze. His heartbeat increased, but his breath was steady.

“Do you want me to leave?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, turned the envelope in his hands, and hesitated. Biting his tongue, he pulled out the letter inside. It was written on one sheet of plain white paper.

 

_Dean,_

_I made the money to buy a stamp and some paper. I had to write you. I know I shouldn’t, and I should let you get back to your life, but… I needed you to know. I think you deserve to know. I want to tell you everything. You and your family… Sam and Bobby… you’ve never judged me. I want you to now, okay? I want you to be the judge this time._

_I was born as Castiel Novak, the second youngest son of Charles Novak. My father was the president of a newspaper company that catered to the entire country. The company reported the news, but it was best known for its editorials. The influence of my father’s thoughts and opinions reached many, and he became a well-known figure locally and nationally. What he wrote was written in stone, it seemed._

_When my father became ill, my brothers took charge of the company. Their editorials were well received also, and they were very greatly respected. When it looked like my father wouldn’t get better any time soon, my brothers were able to maintain the company without any problems. I assisted them, of course, but they were the reason for the newspaper’s continued success._

_One day, an employee of the company came to me. He said that some of the competing papers were talking about getting rid of us once and for all. Over time, we realized that this was true. Discord began between my siblings, and I found myself between their fights repeatedly. Where once we had worked together to keep my father’s legacy, we were now torn into factions, and the entire company suffered._

_That same employee approached me half a year later, seeing how worn the fights between my siblings had made me. He proposed a plan, and as I was one of the leaders of the institution, it was me that he needed to help. I wanted to help him to save my family, to stop the fighting while my father rested from his illness._

_In the end, I assisted in a plan that would overthrow my family’s company, forcing them to give all rights, responsibilities, and assets to the employee I considered impartial. I tricked my family into giving him ownership of the company, believing that he could be neutral enough to cease the battles that had gone on in my family for so long. Once the legal work was finished, however… the company downsized. Now there is only one employee of my family’s company, and he runs an online newspaper by himself. He has closed off the original work building, able to maintain the relaxing and beautiful company grounds with my family’s fortunes._

Dean flipped the paper quickly, hardly breathing.

 

_When I realized what I had done, I tried to run. My brothers were removed from their homes, and they rightly blamed me. My father was not well still, but I was legally disowned and cast out of the area. That is when I become homeless—two years ago now._

_I spent one year hurting myself. I knew I would have killed myself if I stayed where I was, so I ran. I ended up here a few months ago. That’s when I met them. Those men who attacked me took me in. They drugged me, sold me, and used me however they needed. I did horrible things for and with them. They knew that a homeless man would never be missed, never be reported, never be noticed… They knew no one would care. I escaped several times, but they always found me again, drugged me, and whipped me with chains. The last time I escaped, I hid on public busses, hopping from one bus to another day after day._

_That’s where I met you._

_You have shown me a kindness I could not have ever dared ask for. When they found me at Bobby’s Auto Shop, I realized that everything I’ve run from will be catching up with me soon, and I won’t let you be in the middle of it._

_I’m going home. I’m going to see my father and my brothers. If I don’t make it back for you, Dean, please… know that I will always think of you, and I will watch over you always._

_With all of my love forever,_

_your Castiel._

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the heartbreak.. heh.. heh... don't kill me. <3 As usual, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of Cas's background. What were you were expecting?
> 
> A link to brief information about the suicide rate among the homeless (that we know of): http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/15387210


End file.
